


hear a boy bracing tight against sheets

by w4st3d4u



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), All Time Low
Genre: Alpha!Jack, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bonding, Crying, Dominance, Explicit Sexual Content, Hybrid!Michael, Hybrids, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Riding, Rough Sex, Submission, Underage Sex, omega!Michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 00:12:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5226506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w4st3d4u/pseuds/w4st3d4u
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leave it to Jack to fall for a geeky underage emo. The kind he doesn't deserve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hear a boy bracing tight against sheets

**Author's Note:**

> my take on what michael would be like if he was a feline hybrid kid genius who went to university overseas and kinda fell in love with jack barakat. (this is an au.) unbeta'd.
> 
> title from sic transit gloria...glory fades by brand new.

Jack doesn't expect to see a hybrid in his Biological Sciences class. A 16-year-old sophomore with an accent from overseas, with messy dark brown ears and a matching tail snaking out of his black skinny jeans riding low on his wide hips with a ( _surprise!_ ) black Scout Regiment t-shirt. He's the Vice President of Sci-Fi and Fantasy club, the legion of gamers and dorks that meet up on weekends to play League and D&D and talk about coding, occasionally associating themselves with the Film club to host Death Note marathons. He has fluffy black hair and bright eyes that move around excitedly.

 

 

Jack is interested. He's only ever met two male Omegas before: his cousin's ex-boyfriend, the guy from his skate park who moved to Vermont, and now, the hybrid boy. And hybrids are even more rare- they account for less than one percent of the population, and apparently, they're part of an old genetic mutation. The animalistic gene had physical traits that showed up in people at birth besides the whole Alpha, Beta, Omega thing. Female Alphas and Betas were the most likely to show, so a male feline-hybrid Omega? He's a fucking walking freak show.

 

-

 

Some day, a short kid with glasses calls him Michael. Michael's ears perk up. The kid (a Beta, Jack places by his lack of scent) asks Michael about the apparent software they're creating, and then Michael lights up, understanding washing across his features as he spews unintelligible shit in C++, vaguely speaking about setting up a private proxy so the federal government can't track their devices to something-or-other.

 

Over the next week, Jack passes by, smelling him as inconspicuously as possible, picking up the smell of sweat, citrus, salt, women's deodorant, and the IT room, which reeks a little bit of day-old pizza and freshly opened console games. It shouldn't work, yet it does, and Jack eyes him Friday afternoon being taunted.

 

"You're our bitch," his friend laughs, adjusting the frames slipping down his nose.

 

"I'm nobody's bitch," Michael says haughtily, grinning as he types lightning-fast on his laptop keyboard with one hand, playing an RPG in a corner table where he, essentially, directs his nerd village. 

 

The surrounding kids are sophomores, juniors and a few seniors, half the shit coming out of their mouths an entirely foreign language to Jack. Most of them are multitasking, playing Mirror's Edge or doing their CS work with one hand and fucking with their DS's in the other. It's beautiful, geeky chaos.

 

"Dude," one says. "You don't act like it, but, just. People peg you for a Beta, but you smell like an Omega and subconsciously, you act like one too."

 

"How?" Michael asks, taking his eyes off the screen to inspect his potato chip.

 

The guy laughs, and nudges the girl next to him, who gives an offhand reply. "You're hiding in your gigantic hoodie right now and you're slumping in your chair so you look smaller than everyone sitting at the table. Also, you averted your eyes when I looked at you."

 

It's just a habit of instinct, but it makes Michael sigh. "I'm not that bad, am I?"

 

"You're such a classic Omega. Of course, your personality is much more interesting than that of one who just sits and does everything everyone says, but you're such a fucking sub. Also, that Alpha from two tables away? He's staring at you."

 

Michael doesn't see Jack right away, but unless the guy speaking knows he can hear, Jack doesn't look away.

 

He keeps his eyes locked on Michael, his twitchy, nervous ears and tail that wraps around the chair leg. The black hoodie he has on has Japanese print on one sleeve and a vaguely recognizable character from an anime show played on Adult Swim on the back.

 

Michael finally finds him, eyes still wide and bluish-greenish-silvery as ever, just pale skin with little moles on his cheeks and skinny ankles pressed into the backs of his thick thighs. 

 

He's the worst.

 

-

 

  
On Monday, Michael comes in with a five o'clock shadow and two dark marks, one a bruise and the other a hickey.

 

"What happened to you?"

 

Michael hardly registers the question Jack asks until he actually does, rubbing his sleep-addled eyes with deeper bags than usual. He yawns, and rubs his face against the baggy sleeves of his (millionth) hoodie. "I, um, hit my head on a controller. Then we had a Smash marathon, so I got yelled at for losing twice in a row and fell asleep."

 

That doesn't explain the hickey, which he is fiercely jealous of and releasing pheromones about, as a result. But, Michael's not being horribly abused, or bullied, so that's okay.

 

"Sucks."

 

Michael nods, and doesn't say anything else. What a fucking waste of a question. That was the only shot Jack had at conversation and it completely bombed. As in, embarrassingly.

 

-

 

"So, wait, Alphas can actually smell Omegas?" Michael wonders aloud during a reading. The class is chattering, and his comment goes unnoticed by everyone except Jack.

 

Jack stares for a bit, and takes in Michael, his hunched shoulders and pouty lips. How he stares up with doe eyes, the way his annoyingly emo haircut suits him. 

 

"Yeah. I can smell you. You can smell me if you're in heat, but Betas don't usually have a scent, unless they've been scented by an Alpha or an Omega, and even then it wears off," Jack explains, elbow on the table dangerously close to Michael's fingertips. He's within distance of moving a centimeter or two and finally being granted access to the feeling of Michael's skin.

 

"Oh," he says, almost breathily, tail unconsciously flicking across Jack's thigh. "I thought that was just a fake thing, like in badly made porn."

 

"I mean..." Jack trails off, and shakes his head, tries to ignore the tail that brushes against his skin. He's wearing shorts today, he doesn't need this. "Scent is pretty huge. As an Alpha, I really like scenting people that I date, or at least knowing their scent, but." He rubs his nose, and looks Michael in the eye, who's mildly engaged. "Like, when you have a mate, it's supposed to be really, really important. Not that they have to smell like you, but your scent has to be part of theirs, like, when you do the bonding gland thing-" Jack nods to the soft, pink mark resembling an oval on Michael's neck, that constantly shifts in shade and tint- "if I smell like, I don't know. Vanilla and sandalwood, then your surface scent is unaffected, which is the IT room and your lavender Dove deodorant, but your actual scent, which is sort of salty and citrusy and sweaty; that's affected. I would be able to smell the difference."

 

Their other lab partner is scribbling down notes from the textbook, calculating fake results and completely ignoring the conversation.

 

Michael hesitates, then his lips quirk just the tiniest bit to the side. "That's really amazing. I can smell you too, but I didn't know my scent changed when people scented me. If anyone had ever scented me at all."

 

Jack pauses. "No one's ever scented you?"

 

He feels sort of uncomfortable at this. Most parents scent their children, unless they're Betas, and it would be almost physically impossible to have a hybrid Omega male. Even then, friends scent each other for comfort, and if Michael isn't like that with his friends, has he ever dated anyone? Has he ever been with a Beta or an Alpha or even another Omega that's refused to scent him? Jack doubts the likelihood of that.

 

"Artifical insem. I was a donor kid because my parents were Betas and they wanted someone special. Of course, my biological parents' stuff costed more than the others, but it worked out fine. My parents don't exactly understand me and my tendencies, or my physical needs, but it's cool. I live in a separate apartment attached to the house because of the monthly heat thing. It's a nice trade-off."

 

Well, that's a different backstory than he expected, but that doesn't explain the whole / _other_ / thing. Jack raises his brows, and gestures for him to go on. Michael, like a good little Omega, obeys, curling in his chair and shit. It's really, really cute.

 

"I mean, my friends don't scent me because they're mostly Betas, and the Alphas I hang out with are sort of protective, but they, um. They like touching me or having contact more than scent, since we generally share a surface scent and hang out in the same space," Michael rambles. "And, y'know, no one liking me is basically a slut stamp on my back. Even though I've only ever spent heats alone and been a virgin people think I sleep with my Alphas-" Jack tenses, bristles at the "my" in Michael's sentence, yet unnoticeably so- "but I just like cuddling with them. It makes me feel safe, because never having dated anyone is sort of like being fresh meat. Which sucks."

 

He talks a lot when he has a subject to speak about, which is probably why Jack's instincts don't know where to go regarding their acquaintanceship from now on. He just nods, and Michael says, "So, what are we doing for the project?" and it goes from there.

 

-

 

Michael's friends consist of mostly Betas, like usual, because Betas make up a good portion of the population, except- the Alphas aren't what he'd expect, most of them tall but lacking muscle, another chubby, some skinny. There's a senior. Brian's his name. He has cloudy blue eyes and dark brown hair that brushes the frame of his glasses, wavy in the manageable way. He has to be the leader, and he  _has_  to be Michael's Alpha. 

 

Michael, completely oblivious to the way that Brian, with his natural, off-white teeth, his mild acne and long nose, gets close to him when they stand, the two inches he has on Jack that he makes sure to show when Jack waves to Michael in the hall, pulls Michael into his lap at lunch, speaks directly into his ear when he leans over Michael's shoulder to look at his laptop, nose almost nuzzling his neck with a hand on his ribs as he talks about test downloads and external hard drives. 

 

Jack feels threatened by this, mainly because Michael reacts to someone who, admittedly, is not conventionally attractive in Jack's eyes and sort of lanky, less filled out, gaunt near his cheeks and skinny around the waist. Jack's built like a fucking Greek warrior, and he has a lot less acne than most of Michael's friends- male or female- and he's just plain hotter, very much so. It's not even an egotistical Alpha stereotype, just. It's a fact. At least to Jack.

 

He starts dropping by the IT room, making up fake excuses to see Michael during his free time and pushing up his sleeves to nonchalantly flex his arm muscles whenever Brian mumbles something to Michael about tech support being shitty and distracting him.

 

It's actually shocking.

 

For once in his life, he encounters someone who isn't obsessed with his classic features. Michael is actually into people who don't look like everyone else, and that's insane to Jack. Like, a non-shallow person. 

 

Wild.

 

-

 

The one day he goes to the IT room and nearly chokes on the thickness of scent leaking from under the door, it's locked. He knocks, and a Beta answers, clearly oblivious and unaffected, but not blind.

 

Jack sees Michael on top of Brian, fingers threaded together with Michael's head resting on his chest, one folded leg bracing Brian's hip and the other curled to hook under his ankle. The despicable, vulgar pang and flame of jealousy flares in his chest and temples.

 

Brian notices it, and looks up, an arm curled around Michael's soft middle. One pale lovehandle spills out between Michael's skinny jeans and the worn, boxy DotA2 shirt that's clearly too big for him, hiked up around the small of his back while Brian's fingers dip down to brush over the skin, eyes sparkling when he does so.

 

Michael seems like he's asleep, and he is. His eyes are shut and his mouth is open, wet lips twitching in time with his ears.

 

"Why are you here?" the Beta asks, bored eyes flicking back to where Bladerunner is playing on a monitor.

 

Jack clears his throat, shifting his weight as Brian's glassy eyes look back down to Michael, his grip on Michael's hip tightening as he smiles sleepily. It's annoyingly envy-inducing. "I wanted to see Michael."

 

The Beta rolls his eyes, and shows Jack to the door. "He has an Alpha. Don't bother, you're not his type."

 

Brian's pheromones increase in intensity, and he takes that as his cue to leave, closing the door behind him.

 

-

 

  
_Not his type, not his type_.

 

The words loop like a broken record; he feels his fists clench on their own accord and he grips the sink. He can imagine the pheromones flooding from his pores, clogging the drains of the bathroom with their sheer thickness.

 

He would trash the bathroom, or, like, scream, but that's just immature, it shows how much self-control he lacks in response to being indirectly rejected. The smell, was it heat or pheromones? 

 

There's a viable difference between the two and Jack can tell it, but he was so confused and jealous and feeling so many things he didn't want to that he fell victim to oblivion. 

 

The smell was airy, though, less penetrating and demanding than the secretion of pheromones and more unintended. Betas don't go into heat, and that means it was Michael who was in heat, and that means Brian was helping him through it.

 

Maybe they are dating. Maybe Brian took Michael's virginity. Maybe everything is going wrong.

 

Jack walks home as angrily as possible and calls over Alex for a jam session and a fuck, even if he's a Beta. He doesn't need this. Not now.

 

-

 

"So, Brian's your Alpha now?" Jack asks Michael during Bio Sciences. They have plenty of classes together, but he chose the one farthest away to be nonchalant. 

 

Michael twitches. "Not really but, like. We've talked about it, and kissed some. He's not as dominant as I thought, but I mean, I guess I like him. He's cool."

 

"Not as dominant as you thought?"

 

"I mean, I don't know. Omegas don't know how to take control of situations and people sometimes, and when an Alpha can, and they don't, that's sort of... A turn off. It's a little annoying," Michael sighs.

 

"He could be gay. Are you sure Brian doesn't like Alphas?" Jack wonders, too wistful to care about his tone of voice.

 

Michael shrugs and shifts slightly in his chair.

 

"You should come over tonight and watch a movie. We could watch a scary one if you want. I heard you play guitar too, I have a ton of equipment at home," Jack says.

 

He's just waiting for a yes, because Michael seems lonely and a little sad, and they don't have classes after this. It's getting dark too. Honestly, fuck Daylight Savings.

 

The smaller smiles and gives him a nod. 

 

-

 

It's kind of natural, the way they occupy the space of Jack's room. He's a senior, privileges and somewhat of a job give him the opportunity to live off-campus and not in a gross dorm for four years straight.

 

"I like your house. It's homey," Michael grins, trailing behind Jack like a puppy. Or a kitten, rather.

 

Jack says, "Mmm, it's better when I'm not the only one here." And that's that.

 

-

 

Starting off, it was unfamiliar to Jack how Michael followed him onto the bed and casually spooned him. Then, the movie began, and he was scared, so Jack snuggled him more, and then actual-scary-parts ensued, which made Michael hold hands with Jack, and the actual scary parts are occurring now, things hiding in the shadows.

 

There's something off about Michael's scent, something there that wasn't before. Something Jack knows.

 

And then, two minutes later, right before the worst part, Michael hits the pause button. "I think my suppressors are wearing off," he says almost all at once, but more _almostallatoncelikethis_. He's panicked, and a little shaky, and doesn't have a way home that isn't Jack.

 

"Woah. Hey, woah. Calm down, it's okay. I kept some for my ex in the cabinet in my bathroom," Jack tells him, trying to tough out the way Michael's nails are digging into his arm.

 

Michael shakes his head, biting his lip while tears fall silently onto his rosy ( _untouched, pure_ , Jack thinks) skin. He mumbles, "They won't work on me, I'm a hybrid. Fuck, I fucking hate being like this." Jack wipes his eyes anyways.

 

"If you're in heat I think you should leave, because I'm an Alpha," Jack starts, then starts really, really smelling Michael, something enticing making its way into his bloodstream. He can feel them bonding already, accidentally, bodies don't care about complications.

 

Fuck.  _Fuck_. "No, it hurts so much, Jack," Michael cries, clinging onto his arms. "God, I'm so sick of having to go through this every fucking month with no one to fuck me all raw and ready, I'm so desperate."

 

"Baby, Michael," - Michael whines at the sound of the pet name - "you have to go, I don't want to ruin anything and I want you just as much but you don't like me, Michael. You like Brian," he rambles, covering his nose and trying his hardest not to lose control of himself.

 

"But I do like you! God, you have no idea how many nights I've touched myself thinking of you-" Michael's seriously making it worse for him- "and I don't like Brian, fuck. I only want you, please. Just take whatever I can give you."

 

He doesn't know if it's Michael's sense talking, but that's consent, and that's the one thing he remembered from health class that he didn't understand already at age thirteen.  _An Alpha has no right to engage with an Omega unless they receive verbal affirmation that the Omega is willing_.

 

He's over begging and pleading now, just taking off Michael's jeans and his underwear as quickly as possible, hearing Michael hiss with the presence of the chill in the room.

 

There's slick absolutely dripping from his hole, clear and smelling of Michael and slight bitterness, like biting the peel of an orange. His thighs are thick and hips full, wide enough for Jack to slide his hands from Michael's dainty waist to hold them between his fingers, lovehandles prominent.

 

"Your body is so beautiful, Michael," Jack says. He's never been one to get sentimental during sex, but it's hard and soft in all the wrong places and doesn't look one bit like a model, and it's awesome.

 

Michael sighs, turning his head into the pillow, flush spreading across his neck. "Thank you," he says, muffled and probably feeling exposed. 

 

Jack doesn't feel overwhelmed with the pheromones just yet, more on the edge of doing so, needs to get acquainted and comfortable. It's both I-touch-and-want-more plus I-smell-and-go-insane.

 

Michael's ears lay flat on his head, velvety. Jack strokes them, hearing Michael hum would be cuter if he didn't have a raging hard on at the moment. Jack leans in for a kiss, and Michael thinks it's slow, that's sweet - Jack pins his arms down against the bed and digs his nails into Michael's shoulder, dragging them down. Michael gasps, sounding innocent and never-fucked-before. He's not even trying to hold back, shit.

 

Their lips are wet with spit and Michael's such a good kisser, lips plump and moving in time with his, takes a break to breathe and Jack slaps his cheek harshly with his free hand. 

 

It's not even like Jack needs Michael to submit, he's already there, just. He doesn't even object, just makes breathy moans and takes it with his eyes shut and his legs spread wide, squirming. "You're so submissive, baby boy. What do you want me to do to you?"

 

He opens his eyes, wide and green, just staring up at him, breathing a little faster than usual. "I really, really want you to fuck me." His small hand closes soft over Jack's wrist, a sign of trust and intimacy that's both wildly attractive and worrying, he wouldn't put it past himself to bond in the face of pleasure and absolute bliss and _Michael_. It's not very difficult to imagine, or even do.

 

"Maybe I could stretch you open first," Jack says, spreading his fingers across Michael's stomach, slight pudge giving way to his curves. "Or I could lick you out, what about that?"

 

"Whatever you want," Michael mumbles, losing himself in the way Jack strokes his waist.

 

Jack stares down at him. "What did you say? Speak up."

 

"Do whatever you want to me, Jack, fuck. Please," he begs.

 

Jack's stripping himself of his clothing, shirt and jeans strewn on the carpet of his room. Jack realizes Michael's a virgin, being touched for the very first time. This is huge (just like his boner, oh _God_ ) and it's this whole big thing because Michael's breathing so fast and he can't think anything but _fuckohmygodhesmellssofuckingwetandreadyandsweetandimgonnafuckthisupiknowithelookssogorgeousifeellikeimighthurthimandikindofwantto_. There's a barbaric logic to this, Jack hovering over him on his elbows, staring into his eyes, doesn't even have to try to make him submit. If he tries, if he really wants, he can smell Brian from yesterday when he saw them making out in the atrium, practically throwing it in everyone else's sad, single face. Maybe the single part will change after this. Maybe everything will.

 

"Are you okay with this? Like, you're sure?" Jack asks, stroking along Michael's neck. It's so unbelievably intimate and he can feel the intensity of his own gaze affecting Michael, the reality and compassion palpable. 

 

Michael nods, and Jack's hand makes its way between his thighs; Michael is shaking so hard he feels good, can channel the comfort into Michael like Michael radiates anxiety and need. He spreads Michael wide, using his palms flat on the pale skin. He has little brown freckles trailing up from his knees, but God, he looks fucking obscene, like a porn star. He bites his lip and exhales, trying to stay quiet. 

 

"Don't hold back," Jack tells him. "It turns me on that I can make you so loud."

 

He trails a finger from Michael's perineum to his hole, pink and slathered in that fucking slick, clear and sweet. Michael whines, squirming. Jack nods, left arm laying flat against Michael's stomach, holding him down by his protruding hipbones. 

 

In one go, he pushes in two fingers, it's so ridiculously warm. Michael gasps and makes a noise edging on a scream and a moan, he's even hotter now, completely at Jack's mercy. His nostrils fill with the smell of submission and pain. "You like this, princess?" Jack asks, sadism and satisfaction dripping from his words. He feels powerful, more in control than ever. _Fuck_.

 

Michael grips Jack's shoulders and arches up, eyes fluttering with the breathiest whimpers falling from his lips as he nods and whispers, "More, please, more, Jack."

 

He's half-surprised. "How adorable, you remembered your manners," he says condescendingly as he shoves his fingertips into Michael's prostate, making him burst into tears, screaming into Jack's chest as he struggles to get air into his lungs. He grins down at Michael's wet, red face, dark hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. "Shut the - shut the fuck up, please, it feels so good," Michael spits, still disoriented. 

 

Jack angles his fingers upwards so they're constantly pressing into the softness of Michael's prostate. He muffles another cry with the heel of his hand, tears freely flowing from his wide eyes. His entire body is suffering a fever from the heat catching up with him. "What was that again?"

 

"N- nothing, Jack. God, you're an asshole when you want to be," Michael says, half-speaking and half-moaning. "Just fuck me, please. I've done this to myself so many times before during heat. Please, I'm begging you."

 

"I wanted to fuck with you just a little longer, but I really, really want you to ride my cock, so that's fine," Jack smirks.

 

Michael looks sated enough from that. Jack's taking off his boxers, just waiting until -

 

"Oh my God, seriously? Oh my God, Jack," Michael whines, crying even more. "Your cock is so fucking huge, a real Alpha one. You're gonna fuck me so well, I can fucking see your knot forming already. Oh God, Jack."

 

Jack embraces Michael, rubbing a thumb down his back. It's natural for Omegas to be overemotional during heat, but he doesn't even think about that, only reacts naturally and takes him in close.

 

And then he pushes in the tip, slowly and holding himself back from going all the way in one go. It's so hot and unbelievably tight that it engulfs his lower half and starts to crawl up from his stomach. Michael's breath hitches, so Jack shoves another two inches in, making his speech stutter, in the middle of, "God, how much is that?"

 

 

"Four."

 

"And how... How much are. Fuck, how big are you?" Michael whimpers through gritted teeth and a slightly heaving chest.

 

"Eight on a bad day," Jack tells him, trying to avoid his eyes as much as possible. He already has enough feelings for Michael, indulging in Michael's utter instability will only spur on more physical and mental need to bond with him, no matter how young he is.

 

"Jesus, seriousl- oh, fuck, you asshole. Fuck, that hurts so good, Jack," Michael replies. Jack isn't even sure when he stopped crying, or if he did, but it's making him feel very dominant and very satisfied with the fact that Michael is even more submissive than any other run-of-the-mill Omega. He's also tighter than most others, and it just spurs on the extreme growth of his ego at this point.

 

Jack laces his fingers with Michael's. Even if he hasn't bonded with the Omega, Michael's body responds, fluttering of his heartbeat felt on Jack's wrist from Michael's own. Grossly sentimental, but he can hardly focus on that when he's going inch by inch into Michael. 

 

How hot it is in the room he doesn't know, but he probably smells like his scent and rugged Alpha pheromones. Also, sweat.

 

Michael is quiet for a while, but he looks down and sees him sobbing without a sound. "Jack," he chokes out. "You're really big and it hurts. And it feels fucking good, but could you just, um. Get it over with?"

 

Jack nods, bites his lip, and slams in, being  _marginally_  careful about his knot. Michael screams, so gorgeous and incredibly smooth around him. "Fuck you," Michael whines bitterly, arching up and gasping for any kind of air he can get.

 

"How's it feel, princess?" Jack asks, out of breath himself.

 

"Full," Michael chokes out. 

 

Jack pulls out and thrusts in, hard and unforgiving enough to push the smaller up the bed, skull hitting the metal of Jack's headboard. "You like it, don't you?"

 

Michael moans high-pitched, feminine. He  _is_  Jack's type, and in the purest sense. Fuck that Beta.

 

"Stop talking, fuck. I'm gonna fucking cum if you keep talking like that," Michael says, all in one breath. He looks as if he's trying to regain memories and become aware of his surroundings, but his eyes stay locked on Jack.

 

He squeezes Michael's hand. "Should I start?"

 

Michael just says yes, breathy moans starting to make themselves known in time with Jack's particularly forceful thrusts. 

 

 Jack grips the meat of his thighs in his palms, fucking into him anything but soft and slow, much more unrelenting and commanding. Michael squirms and sighs, letting out audible "hmm-fuck"'s and "ah-ah-ah"'s when he develops a pace. He sees his cock forming a bump in Michael's stomach, pushing up into his body, intestines, skin, ruthless like the way the bed frame shakes in Jack's wake. He shoves his palm down onto it, eliciting a "God, you're so fucking good, Jack," from Michael's mouth.

 

The stripe of Michael's throat occupied by his bonding gland is irritated, practically asking Jack to sink his teeth in. "Tell me how good I am, princess. Scream it if you have to." Michael pauses then, catching his breath as Jack lifts his leg to his shoulder, knee bending at the junction of it. He thrusts just slightly upwards, and the groan Michael makes turns into a cry midway, pitching up with a hum. His eyes lock with Jack's and he tries his hardest to hold off of coming just then. 

 

"I found it," Jack smirks. Michael wraps a free arm around his neck, pulling him down. They're kissing carelessly now, tongues slipping together every now and then between delays. Soon, Jack's sucking the noises from Michael's wet, open mouth, he's almost a limp body in Jack's embrace, taking it, can hardly handle how overwhelmed he is. Yet, he's oversensitive and too responsive, jolting or letting out a soft-loud "oh, God" at any kind of movement, never mind the fact that Jack's pounding into him, a wet spot where slick drips from Michael's hole. 

 

Michael's half-mumbling, half-stuttering. "You're so fucking amazing, Jack. So big, fucking me full of your cock. I can't even, can't even talk properly. P-please."

 

Jack can feel his knot thicken at that, nearly there. He pulls Michael's head back from the hair behind his ears. He's aware it's painful from the anguished outcry it makes Michael exclaim, but he doesn't care as much until it's Michael's watery-clear eyes inches away from his, the curve near the tip of his nose and the flush of his cheeks. Jack brings Michael up onto his lap, still kneeling as the younger's thighs brace his. Every inch of him shakes, hands clasped behind Jack's spine. 

 

"You okay?" Michael breathes, staring up at him through thick lashes that flick against his browbone.

 

He places his hands on Michael's waist, kissing him with as many words as possible without speaking. There's spiky dark hair and a forehead full of teenage acne clouding his view, and now it all makes sense. Jack feels, Jack sees, Jack smells, Jack tastes, Jack hears. Jack _knows_.

 

Jack nods, and before he dips his teeth down to Michael's bonding gland, he shoves Michael down on his knot, right into his prostate. There's a " _haaaaaaaa_ , Jack, oh," from the boy, eyes momentarily rolling into the back of his head, hips rolling towards Jack in need. He can't even articulate the sensation; neither can Jack himself. All it is right now is even more tightness and slick coating him and clenching milking his cock and hotness and how dark it is in the room; fucking pleasure radiating from their sore muscles and aching jaws. Michael's fingers brush mindlessly over the muscles of his upper back, finding something to keep aware of in the jumble of sentiment and passion and heightened perception. 

 

His lips close over the slightly raised skin of Michael's neck that throbs in time with their heartbeats. Michael bares his throat and says, "Yes, yes, yes," in quick succession as he cums all over his stomach, white on off-white with a sound that forces him to let go, thrusting up harder and plunging himself farther into the sticky, hot mess. The next actions he takes are entirely in-the-moment, but took around four months of thinking through, God, this is what he's needed for what seems like forever until now.

 

It's a bite that bleeds more than usual, and he's left sucking the metallic-y stuff from Michael's wound like some kind of DIY vampire. Michael hasn't spoken, nor breathed, in the past thirty seconds. His head lays on Jack's chest, nearly frozen.

 

Jack immediately softens his grip, hardly realizing how tightly he's been holding Michael. "Michael," he says, trying to get some kind of reaction, but mostly just to say his name. 

 

"Jack," Michael whispers, lips dragging up over his sternum and collarbone. He takes in everything around him for a long, silent thirty minutes, from Michael's downy black ankle socks to the soaked bedsheets. He can count the seconds from the moment their breaths fall into sync, can sense the knot going down and the nonstop release of pheromones making the time pass by faster and slower simultaneously. It's weird, but familiar, as though this was what he was meant to do, even if he can think of at least ten reasons why it isn't.

 

"Let's go to the living room," Jack suggests, less of a suggestion and mostly a statement. Michael nods, kind of in outer space with a dazed grin on his face. 

 

He gets up and stumbles, legs hardly working as he falls against the side of the bed. Jack laughs, and then it's like everything is hilarious, because they're both laughing so hard they can't breathe because Michael _fell_ , of all things. It's so stupid, but it also isn't, and afterwards Michael crawls over to slip Jack's shirt over his head, stepping into the boxers two sizes too large for him. He rolls them up and Jack aids him in rising from the floor, the fabric of his Star Wars shirt falling to mid-thigh. He probably only picked it up because of the logo.

 

He says, "I like you so much, Michael."

 

Michael nods and responds, "Yeah. Yeah, you too. I really like you too. Probably more." Even if it's not the kind of love confession he's dreamed of, it's more than he could ask for right now. He's sleepy-sounding and in desperate need of a shower, but Jack ignores his instinct for five more minutes to dig another pair of black boxers out of a drawer for himself. He almost forgot about Michael's tail. It snakes out of the left leg of his boxers, flicking earnestly against Michael's calf, ominous enough to be inviting.

 

He smiles at how Michael clings to his side. He still hasn't hit a growth spurt yet.

 

Jack leads him to the couch and they lie down. Michael's eyes look even bigger and more naive in the lack of lighting. Their bodies, so different in size, couldn't have fit better. The clock reads three-twenty-five. It's darker than ever, the night giving way to exposure, vulnerability, fear, a moon. 

 

And through it all, Jack can't help but think it shouldn't have been him.

**Author's Note:**

> i feel like i've improved greatly since my last work. this took me a while. leave any advice, criticism, or whatever in the comments. i hope it didn't suck. :^)


End file.
